


Headed Off at the Pass

by junko



Series: Written in the Scars (of Our Hearts) [13]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Humor, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:25:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji and Byakuya go through their days, until finally reunited for their weekend date in the Human World...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Headed Off at the Pass

**Author's Note:**

> This one probably needed a better title, but words failed me. It may be a reference to what happened to my Muse. I'd intended something far more meaty, and it ambushed me with fun, filler scenes. All I can say, is that I'm sure my boys will talk about ALL THE THINGS before their weekend is over. 
> 
> Also I marked this RenRukia, but if you're looking for smoochies, I'm sorry to disappoint. I felt like I needed to slash it, though, because their friendship has always bordered on more-than-friends in my mind and I wanted to acknowledge the tension that exists there. 
> 
> Thanks goes, as always, to Josey (cestus) who keeps me from looking like a babbling idiot (which I wouldn't even spell correctly without her) and for her cheerleading and idea bouncing and friendship. Thanks!

Renji woke up to Tessai crouching over him. His glasses glinted menacingly about an inch from Renji’s face.

“Ai!” Renji leaped about a foot. Scuttling like a high-speed crab in reverse, he pressed his back to the corner of the room, clutching at the blanket to cover his naked body. The fuck? How could someone so huge move silently like that? And, Renji was just getting used to all the noises at the shōten and not jittering awake like he was back in Inuzuri. This was going to set him back some. “Jeez, man! What? Is the store on fire? Espada outside or something?” Figuring that had to be it, Renji dropped the blanket and started hunting around for the monkey-headed Pez dispenser. Not finding it immediately, he jumped to his feet—these shōten guys seemed to have six dozen ways to toss a soul out of a body, “Okay, get me in the fight. Don’t just sit there, man, pop me out!”

“Mail,” Tessai said. He dropped the sealed letter on the futon. Then, as though Renji wasn’t standing buck naked and ready for action, the big guy got up and walked out of the room. He slid the door behind him politely.

Renji sat back down on the futon with a thump. His heart still beat wildly in his chest.

Man, that Tessai guy was weirder than shit. 

Renji let his shoulders relax with a sigh. Reaching over, he retrieved Byakuya’s letter from where Tessai had dropped it. He turned it over twice before breaking the seal. There was something weird about the letter. The Kuchiki crest was there all right, but that was not Byakuya’s handwriting on the address. 

Who the heck else would be sending him mail from the estate? It wouldn’t be that crazy-ass auntie of Byakuya’s, would it? Nervously, Renji broke the seal and uncurled the folds carefully, half expecting something to jump out at him.

 

> Lieutenant Abarai,
> 
> His lordship asked that I send a quick note in reply to your latest missive as he is busy with Division business and preparing for travel. 
> 
> He would like you to know that he plans to stay in the World of the Living for the full weekend, and has already made reservations for the both of you at the Imperial Hotel in his name. 
> 
> You are asked to let Lady Rukia know that he would be happy to accompany her and her friend back to the Soul Society through the Kuchiki senkaimon, and you should certainly extend an invitation to them both for dinner at the hotel. He leaves the best day and time to your discretion.
> 
> I am to let you know that his lordship is very much looking forward to his visit with you. He is ‘counting the hours.’
> 
> Your humble servant,  
>  Eishirō

 

Simple, to the point, but kind of a massive let down after the last several smoldering hot correspondences. Renji was about to toss it aside, when an extra scrap of paper slid out of a hidden origami paper pocket folded into the creases of the letter. On it was a hastily scrawled addition:

> You should know that Lord Kuchiki not only uncovered my errand into the Rukongai to fetch the item you left behind with the horishi, but also managed to contrive to come along with me. I’m afraid I was unable to keep your mistake a secret on any level.

“Fucking a!” Renji sputtered. “Holy shit, he’s going to kill me! I’m going to die.” Renji’s mind boggled at that, but another part of his brain registered that there was more writing on the secret note. He blinked a few times to focus on something other than his impending demise, and was finally able to make out the rest of the words:

> I don’t know if it will help to know that his lordship seems more upset about rumors of rogue shinigami in the West Rukongai. He’s set up a young man in his tea house in the West to act as a spy. I spent much of the day making arrangements and negotiating with the managers of each house—apparently, the one in the north is loathe to remove its greatest asset, but it is difficult to argue with an owner willing to pay any sum to achieve his aims. However, I think you should take comfort that his lordship seems very driven to uncover a ‘guiding hand’ to explain your brother’s recent trouble. This must bode well for you and him, must it not?
> 
> I could not be sorrier things turned out this way. I know you came to me in order to avoid a confrontation over the matter of the necklace. Please accept my most sincere apologies.

Renji sighed. He wanted to be mad at Eishirō for somehow managing to spill the beans to Byakuya so spectacularly, but Renji knew this whole mess wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own. Drinking always led to ‘teh stupid’ as Ichigo called it. How many years in the Eleventh? Renji should really know better by now: always leave your valuables at home when you go on a binge drunk. Shit, that was like Yumichika’s ‘survival rule’ number six or something… Renji rubbed his face and pulled his braid into his mouth to chew on the tip.

What to make of the rest of this note? 

As he scanned the words again, Renji shook his head in despair. Despite best intentions, Eishirō didn’t quite have his master’s way with the art of correspondence. Renji felt like he had only half the story. Who was this ‘young man’ Eishirō was talking about? How the hell had Byakuya met this kid, or was he someone already on retainer? A spy at a tea house? And best ‘asset’? In a tea house, that usually just meant best ‘ass.’ So what the hell? It was confusing. Renji had no sense of what was really going on there. But there was heavy subtext. Renji felt like he ought to be able to read through the lines. Why had Eishirō gone on about the ‘young man’ at such length? Was he trying to tell Renji something else important? Why mention him at all, in fact? Byakuya wouldn’t be fooling around already, would he?

Renji shook his head. No, Byakuya was really working at this courtship thing. He’d seemed super sincere about trying to make things right and not wanting them to break up. So, no way he’d sabotage everything by messing around with some Rukongai tea house boy.

And what was all this about some rogue shinigami?? That was concerning and more than a little baffling. How did that even happen without the Second being on top of it before the guilty parties could even spell AWOL? Had Byakuya had some kind of run in with zanpakutō-welding bandits while they were out in the Rukongai? Eishirō would have said if they’d been attacked, wouldn’t he?

The part that was killing Renji was knowing he couldn’t even ask Byakuya about it.

Hell, Renji was going to have to pretend he didn’t even know that Byakuya knew about the whole necklace fiasco. How the hell was he even going to pull that off?

Cripes.

Renji flopped back, letting his head hit the pillows and his legs uncross. Well. It was going to be an interesting first night back together for them, that was for sure. At least at a place called ‘The Imperial’ Byakuya probably couldn’t just strangle Renji in the lobby—though, fuck it, maybe he could if he was paying for the penthouse suite.

Renji kind of wished they could just stay at some cheap love hotel. If they stayed all weekend, they could try out all the themed rooms.

With a defeated sigh, he grunted to his feet and searched around the small room until he found his school uniform. He should probably tough it out and attend high school today or he’d never catch up with Rukia and Orihime, especially with Ichigo still on the missing person’s list. 

Renji’s mind was churning so hard he was already dressed and nearly out the door when he realized he’d forgotten a critical component—underwear. Renji let out a soft curse and took his shoes and pants off to try again. Who’d have thought he’d miss hakama right about now?

This day was going to suck.

#

Byakuya’s day was not going well. The Fourth Seat pulled at her lip as she scanned the rolls. She sat across from him, sitting tailor fashion, reminding Byakuya how much he wished Renji were here to deal with this. “I’m right, am I not?” he asked her. “There are at least five of our soldiers unaccounted for.”

She glanced up. “I’m not sure, sir. I mean, I know, for instance that one of these guys is on full-time disability leave because he’s got paperwork in his file for a possible transfer to the Fourth’s cleaning detail, which I haven’t wanted to process because…well, because it’s just sad. But, these others-- I’m just not familiar with everyone’s situation the way the lieutenant is…” she paused and shook her head. “Desertion is a serious charge, Captain. I’d want to double and triple check all of the files before we start putting up the wanted posters. I mean we had a ton of people bail after… well, to be fair, we had a big influx of transfers too. Point is, a lot of people came and went. We’d look like idiots if we called foul only to find these people working over at the Ninth or somewhere like that, you know?”

Byakuya nodded in agreement. Though he was considering the fact that the only thing he knew for certain at this moment was that he was a terrible captain. He’d been up half the night going over the roster. Somewhere after midnight it had hit Byakuya the extent to which he had no idea who half the people in his Division even were. Renji had kept him up to-date, of course, but having very few faces to attach to names meant he’d only had vague memories of who’d gone where and for what reasons. It didn’t help that there’d been so much chaos in the aftermath of the betrayals that last log had a note attached to it that simply read, “Reprint Clean Copy ASAP” in Renji’s hand with multiple undecipherable notes in the margins. 

He’d be angrier at Renji for not having a pristine copy of the roster in hand, but Byakuya knew that Renji knew this division down to a man…or woman, as the case might be. 

Byakuya only wished he knew his own Division so well.

“Please do so,” Byakuya said, feeling very humbled by this experience. “I’d like to have this sorted as soon as possible. Also, I assume you’re dealing with the empty Eleventh seat?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, seeming relieved to have something positive to offer him. “We’re processing the promotions. Renji had most of them lined up ready to go, since for the most part, everyone is just moving up a seat. He left notes about the people he wanted to reshuffle. So the only thing left is pulling someone up from the unseated ranks. I’m interviewing potential Twenty Seats. There’s a small group of candidates who are on the cusp of achieving shikai, including some that came from the Fifth with a lot of kidō experience. I’ve been considering using a tournament elimination-style competition to find the best fighter.”

Byakuya frowned. It sounded good, up until that last part, which seemed very reminiscent of the Eleventh Division’s methods and he wasn’t sure he approved. “I want more than good fighters,” he reminded her. “I want leadership potential. I want individuals who will represent our highest standards for officers, you understand?”

She gave him a little grimace, which she took a moment and some effort to turn into a smile. “I do, sir. But, I feel I have to say there’s not a soul in the unseated ranks who wouldn’t make you proud in that regard. It’s a well known fact that it’s as difficult to be accepted into the Sixth as it is the First. Even our least is better than most, sir.”

A strange sort of relief flooded Byakuya at her adamant tone. Perhaps he hadn’t failed as utterly as he imagined. “Yes, that is my fervent hope,” he said, “Which is why I must be absolutely certain that not one of these rogues in the Rukongai ever sported our colors.”

Her smile was genuine now. “I understand that, sir. I do.”

“Good,” he said. 

“If I might make my case for the tournament?” she asked. At Byakuya’s nod, she said, “Sometimes it’s only extreme pressure that makes a person call out to their zanpakutō. I won’t test anyone who doesn’t pass the interview process, of course, but I’m just saying that those that do might just need a bit of a push.”

Byakuya nodded. It made sense, “Very well. You may have your tournament.”

After the rest of the day’s business was discussed, he dismissed her. Byakuya had to admit that this fiery, opinionated woman, Nanako Imai, was growing on him—despite her unfortunate physical resemblance to a certain hell cat. Renji had chosen well to advance her. Perhaps Byakuya could relax and trust that, even though he might not have been as hands-on as some captains, he could rest easy that his direct subordinates were competent and had enough pride in their Division to uphold Byakuya’s vision.

Still, should he discover that any of his own were part of the rogue shinigami terrorizing the West Rukongai, may hell have mercy on their souls.

#

Renji wasted half the morning stuck in some kind of miserable hell called Geometry until Ishida finally told him that neither Rukia nor Orihime had shown up today.

For that matter, he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Yumichika, Ikkaku, Matsumoto, the little captain, or even Chad. It was just the two of them sitting on the asphalt of the rooftop lunch spot everyone usually favored. Even that hanger-on guy Keigo and his cute little dark-haired friend hadn’t bothered to show.

“The fuck,’” Renji grumped. “Does no one even pretend to go to this school?”

Ishida just raised a slender eyebrow and adjusted his glasses in that way that made Renji always figure he’d just gotten flipped off. 

“Yeah, okay, I mean besides you,” Renji said. A second look at Ishida made Renji say, “But, maybe you should think about a day off. You’re looking a little rough around the edges there, Quincy kid.”

“You, shinigami idiot, and the school nurse can stuff it,” he said coolly. “I’m fine.”

Sure, if by ‘fine’ Ishida meant someone was beating the stuffing out of him on a regular basis. Plus, the kid didn’t look like he’d slept in days.

“Well, screw this math crap. I got no hope figuring out the diameter of anything and I think I’m looking at some crazy foreign language that I will never use next. Let’s bail, huh? I’m going to see who of our crew I can rustle up,” Renji said. “You coming?”

“You’re asking me to skip school?” He sounded aloof and affronted. A lot like Byakuya on a bad day, actually, “With you?”

“Uh, yeah,” Renji said, looking around exaggeratedly, as if wondering who the hell else he could be talking to, “Why not? It’s Friday, ain’t it?”

Ishida looked sort of relieved as he tossed what remained of his bento box into his courier bag. “I thought you’d never ask.”

After twenty minutes of making their escape and forty of checking the usual hang-outs, they finally came across Rukia sitting by herself on a hill looking out over the channel. She looked sort of depressed, her arms wrapped around her knees and her head tucked in so deep that only her eyes looked out over the water. Renji plopped himself beside her, legs outstretched and propped up himself on his elbows. Ishida, who had been fairly sullen and silent during their exploration of the town, stood a few feet away, his arms crossed and staring off down the road, as though anxious to go. Renji figured the kid would bail in a minute or two.

Apparently having her Kuchiki on, Rukia hadn’t even acknowledged him yet, so Renji poked her with his elbow. “Hey, you. You brooding over something?” Like he didn’t know what. Ichigo still hadn’t come back from his little petulant walkabout and it’d been days.

“I don’t think it ever occurred to him he could lose,” she said quietly, her voice further muffled by her arms. “I tried to pull him back when he seemed depressed, but—“

But the kid was an idiot. Only a fool walked away from Rukia. It was one thing to let her go, but to push her away? Renji could kill that orange-haired punk some days. “Of course it never occurred to him he could lose,” Renji grunted. “Ichigo has never had a setback in his life. He’s, like, what? Fifteen? And yet he waltzed into the Soul Society, pummeled everyone in sight, and hardly got a scratch. Of course he doesn’t know what to do with himself after some blue-haired hybrid dude kicks his scrawny ass. He’s a fucking teenager. Give him time. He’ll get his head on straight.”

“I think there’s more going on, Renji. I saw it, you know. His mask.”

Oh, right, the eight hundred pound gorilla in the room no one wanted to talk about. Renji just shrugged, “Yeah, well, knowing Ichigo, he’s probably off with Lady Yoruichi figuring out how to turn it into a battlefield advantage. I wouldn’t give him another second’s worry.”

Rukia’s eyes flashed at that. She lifted her head and snapped, “Well, you wouldn’t, but that’s because you’re not in love—“

Her eyes got wide and she stopped, almost choking at what she’d just said. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth. Her knees still bent up, she fell backward into the grass as if she’d literally died of embarrassment on the spot.

Renji laughed at her antics _and_ her predicament. “Heh, you’re the biggest cougar ever. You know you’re ten times his age, right?” He spread his hands wide, all his fingers and thumbs out, and waved them in her face. “Ten. Times.”

She batted his hands away and threw an arm over her face miserably, “Shut up.”

He laid his own head back and the both of them stared up at the clouds moving in the sky. He glanced over by where Ishida had been standing. Sure enough, the Quincy had wandered off to wherever. Renji hoped he’d gone to take a nap or buy himself a treat or something nice. He needed a break; that kid was strung taut like that damn bow of his.

Turning back to Rukia, Renji said, “Yeah, well, you should get used to it-- the whole being worried for Ichigo thing. It’s not like you picked yourself a homebody.”

Rukia sighed. “There is that.”

Tucking his arms under his head, Renji closed his eyes to the bright sun and enjoyed the smell of freshly mowed grass mingling with exhaust fumes—such a decidedly Human World scent. They lay there in the grass together for a while, until Renji thought to say, “Your brother’s coming to town.”

There was a gasp. “Nii-sama? What? Why?”

“To kill me with his own hands, I think,” Renji said dejectedly. Opening his eyes, he turned his head to look at Rukia. “But, you know, before he does that, I was thinking it’d be cool if we all hung out together one night. Like, maybe tonight, so the killing can be delayed a little and he has to have his company manners on. Anyway, not only would it potentially save my life, but you should take the opportunity to introduce Orihime. I mean, you are taking her back with you, right? He said you guys could hitch a ride though the Kuchiki senkaimon, as it were, if you wanted.”

Rukia was nodding along, but when Renji finished talking she rolled over and poked him in the nose. “Jeez, Renji, what did you do?”

“Oh, you know, I got drunk and traded his love token for a tattoo.” Her eyes went wide at that. “Yeah,” Renji added with a sigh for extra drama, “And did I mention it was a piece of the kenseikan Ichigo broke?”

She looked stricken for a second, and then broke into an uproarious laugh. “Oh, Renji, you gigantic idiot, you _are_ going to die.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, “So, seriously, how about it? Can you guys come tonight?”

“Orihime is...,” Rukia said, as though considering it all. Then she smacked Renji’s head. Hard. “How come you were so mean to her? You’re not usually the guy who tells girls they can’t fight.”

Renji squinted at her until he was sure she wasn’t going to pound on his head any more. Then he let out a breath. “She’s human, Rukia. Humans have no place in this fight.”

“Human…?” She looked utterly baffled, “You’re training Chad. What’s he?”

“I don’t know, but not human.”

“Well, I’m training her,” Rukia said defiantly, as though expecting Renji to try and talk her out of it. 

He lifted his shoulder, “Your call.”

“Anyway, about tonight. I think I can coax her out. She’s been disappearing during the day, but I’m sure she’ll answer a text.” Finishing out her phone, Rukia began thumbing like a pro.

“Look at you, you’re so… like them, so _human_.”

“Stop saying that like it’s a bad thing,” Rukia gave him a quick glare before returning her gaze to her screen. She finished quickly and snapped it shut. Turning her head to frown at him she said, “Don’t think I’ve forgiven you for all that mean stuff you said to me that night you and nii-sama brought me back to the Soul Society.”

“What stuff?” Renji said. “Uh, you know I wasn’t exactly myself that night, right? We talked about this, didn’t we?”

Her frown deepened and she unconsciously touched her cheek. She might as well as stabbed him in the heart with the icy blade of Sode no Shirayuki, reminding him of how he’d cut her like that. 

She rubbed her skin absently, not looking at him. A big part of Renji wanted to get her attention and apologize for not having his head on straight from the beginning and needing Ichigo to kick him in the pants. But, an equally large part of him also wanted to indignantly shout and remind her that without Byakuya on board Renji’s hands were kind of tied, being a soldier under orders and all that shit. She should know about what it was like. Hadn’t Ukitake asked her to kill Kaien? Yeah, it was different since the guy was possessed by a Hollow, but she, of all people, must know what it’s like to have a beloved friend in the crosshairs. Sometimes orders are ‘pull the trigger,’ and you just have to do it. 

Which brought Renji back to his original point—he couldn’t do it. He loved her too much--so did Byakuya, and they’d had to ask Zabimaru to step in.

Fuck it all, he wished she’d forgive him all ready. It wasn’t like it didn’t work out in the end.

Instead of saying any of that, Renji just kind of growled in frustration. 

She blinked at the noise he made and their eyes met. Just when both of them opened their mouths to say something, the phone Rukia had left perched on her stomach chirped. Flipping the cover up, she read the note and smiled at him. “Your butt is saved, boy. Orihime can make it tonight. Or at least I assume that’s what ‘squee’ means, but she wants to know what to wear.”

Renji scratched his chin. “I don’t know. Tell her we’ll be eating at some restaurant in the Imperial Hotel.”

Rukia blinked. “The Imperial….? You have a black tie, don’t you, Renji? Because you’re going to need one.”

#

Byakuya wasn’t sure what to make of the man who met him at the senkaimon. He was, without doubt, unaccountably handsome. Long, ruby red hair, mostly under control, fell in thick strands to his broad shoulders. 

That part looked like the lover Byakuya’d expected to find waiting for him on the other side. But, what to make of the tailored suit of deep charcoal gray, a shirt buttoned all the way up, and a thin black silk tie? Were those actually cufflinks? Polished shoes?

If it wasn’t for the way he leaned against the storage unit’s door, hands shoved deep in his pockets, and those mirrored sunglasses that made him look like a gangster, Byakuya would never have recognized Renji. Until, of course, he lifted the sunglasses and cracked that dangerous, sexy, sharp-toothed grin and said, “Hey, you think that fancy-ass hotel of yours will let me in looking like this? Because I got to tell you, these shoes pinch like a son of a bitch.”

Ah, thank fate, his Renji was here after all. Byakuya couldn’t quite suppress a smile. “I must say I’m impressed with Urahara’s closets,” Byakuya said, allowing his gaze to linger over the way the tailor managed to highlight all of Renji’s best physical features. Such a trim waist! Byakuya feigned irritation and said, “I suppose I’ll have to choose my suit off the rack?”

Renji unlocked the garage door, “Nah, the nice thing about having a bunch of illegal mod souls around is that you can pop ‘em in a gigai and let them spend a stupid amount of hours getting fitted.” He paused with the door partway up, “I should warn you, though. Your mod kind of busted out. There’s more color than I would have picked for you. I think it looks pretty hot, though. You’ll have to see what you think.”

With an introduction like that, Byakuya had visions of Hawaiian prints or garish lamé. He was relieved to see that this ‘wild’ choice was nothing more the addition of a silk shirt a color not unlike that of Captain Hitsugaya’s eyes—a sort of teal or turquoise—underneath a very handsome, traditional black suit. The shirt was certainly bolder than any Byakuya would have chosen, but Renji was right—it was more than acceptable.

In a moment, Byakuya had settled into the thing. The silk felt right against his skin and the suit did have a very nice, rich cut. Renji had certainly gone all out for him. All this effort on Renji’s part made Byakuya feel only a little bad about the kenseikan necklace he had hidden in his fist. “I assume this means we’ve dinner plans?”

“That’s right,” Renji said, offering a hand to help Byakuya to his feet. “I’m heading you off at the pass, Sheriff.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Renji pulled Byakuya up sharply and suddenly they stood so close they could kiss. There was a mischievous twinkle in Renji’s eye that was captivating, despite the silly glasses perched on his head, and he wrapped an arm around Byakuya’s waist pulling him in even tighter. “You can’t kill me in front of witnesses, can you, Taicho?”

“And why would I want to do that?” Byakuya asked, feeling foolishly breathless at the way Renji held him so commandingly. The inches between them also forced Byakuya to tilt his chin up if he wanted to keep looking into those devilish eyes, so tauntingly full of smoldering heat. 

“Because I’m a fuck-up,” Renji said. His lips dipped to brush against Byakuya’s ear. Renji’s voice was low and full of sincere self-recrimination, “Because I screwed up and did something really, really stupid and probably hurt your feelings. A lot.”

Byakuya tried to sound disinterested and cool, but he noticed his free hand clutched a handful of Renji’s silk shirt. The kenseikan shard dug into his palm. “Are you confessing to something, Renji?”

“You think I should?” Renji asked, pulling away slightly to give Byakuya another wicked grin, “Or do you want to take it out of my flesh?”

Heat flushed Byakuya’s cheeks at the images that sprung to mind. He had to drop his eyes, though he was sure his eyelashes betrayed him by trembling, “Hmmm,” he said, softly, his voice huskier than he’d intended, “I’m suddenly very uncertain which I’d prefer.”

Renji’s mouth dipped down and captured his lips in a bruising kiss. An arm tightened around Byakuya’s waist, and the other let go of his hand to grip his jaw. It was the sort of kiss a person could melt into if they were so inclined.

Byakuya was surprised to discover he was a little—inclined, that was.

So, he let Renji completely possess his mouth, and allowed his probing tongue to frantically explore every corner of it. But, Byakuya was hardly the sort to passively surrender for long. Thus, after only a few moments, Byakuya played a little taunt and chase and was rewarded with a sort of happy growl that rumbled up from somewhere deep within Renji’s throat.

Mmmm, so sexy.

Too soon, Renji pulled away. His face was flushed and his pupils wide. “Yeah, sorry, no,” he said, stealing one more little kiss like a school boy, before continuing, “I ain’t confessing to nothing. You’re going to have to get it out of me.”

Renji held on to Byakuya for a long time, and seemed to be admiring the way the moonlight fell on his face.

Then he sighed, shifting in a way that let Byakuya know the depth of his regret as he said, “And, fuck me, now I kind of wish we didn’t have to have dinner with your sister first.”

“I have to say I am surprised to find our first night together delayed.”

Renji released Byakuya from their tight embrace, and rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, well, I figured I ought to get myself a couple of body shields, just in case you were on the warpath.”

Byakuya barely managed to keep the kenseikan shard hidden as he uncurled his fingers from Renji’s shirt. He was surprised to see he’d left a sweat-wrinkled mark. Byakuya ignored it, and reached out to straighten Renji’s tie for him. Pulling the knot tight, he asked, “Who’s to say I’m not still?”

“Uh…,” Renji seemed to lose all his earlier confidence. “No one, I guess. I…um, always kind of forget how stone cold you can be.” That thought seemed to bring back his earlier wickedness, and a corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Heh, yeah, I guess I’ll have to take my chances.” 

“Indeed,” Byakuya said, using the tie to pull Renji down into a kiss. “But, I think, perhaps, you’ve been a very, very bad boy.”

“Oh,” Renji said, once their lips parted, “Yeah. I have.”

With a sigh, Byakuya let go of the tie. He brushed the shoulders of Renji’s suit straight, and pulled the shades from his head and tucked them into the front pocket of the coat. “Is the hotel close, at least? Or do we have to take one of those dreadful taxis again?”

“We could try the train,” Renji offered, “Or a bus.”

“Taxi, it is,” Byakuya sniffed.

They started walking. Renji said, “Rukia will be happy to see you.”

“Not as happy as you.”

“No,” Renji agreed, his voice deepening, “Definitely not as happy as me.” He smiled to himself for a long moment, his hands sliding into his pockets as they walked toward the lighted business district. “I loved your letters.”

“I loved yours, too.”

“You did?”

“Yes,” Byakuya said. Then, after a moment of consideration, added, “It was very… you.”

“I guess that’s good,” Renji said, though he fairly beamed from the compliment. Once they reached a lighted street, Renji started scanning the traffic for a taxi. Seeing one, he lifted his hand, stepped out in the street and put on his lieutenant’s voice, “Oi!” The cab seemed to recognize his command instantly, and pulled out of the stream of passing cars to rumble up to the curb. Renji opened the door for Byakuya. As Byakuya slid into the seat, Renji said, “Let’s make this dinner quick, shall we?”

“Yes,” Byakuya said, once Renji came in beside him. “I’ve been looking forward to this night for a long time.”

“Oh my god, me, too,” Renji breathed. Then, leaning forward, told the taxi driver, “Imperial Hotel, please.”

#

When they got out of the taxi, Renji nearly fell over at the sight of Rukia. She looked amazing. All sorts of confusing old feelings came rushing back at the sight of her in that perfect little black number that hugged all the right parts, which, despite the simplicity of the dress or maybe because of it, made her look so damn… elegant.

Like a goddamn _lady_.

“Renji, you’re in my way,” Byakuya said. Only then did Renji realize he’d gotten only part way out of the cab, gripping the door and his butt basically in Byakuya’s face.

“Uh, right, sorry,” Renji said, taking a moment to wave at Rukia and Orihime, and then help Byakuya out. When Rukia and Orihime came over with smiles and hellos for them both, Renji introduced Byakuya to Orihime, “This is Orihime Inoue. Orihime, meet my captain and Rukia’s older brother.”

Renji had gone over this moment in his mind for a stupid amount of time today, because he wasn’t sure he could look a human in the eye and say ‘Lord Kuchiki’ or any number of the other titles appropriate for someone of Byakuya’s rank and station in the Soul Society. Renji finally decided that, even if he got a sneer out of Byakuya for something so informal, he’d focus on relationship connections and leave Byakuya to give his name the way he wanted.

Byakuya surprised Renji, by giving Orihime a slight nod and, without any other titles or honorifics, said, “Byakuya Kuchiki. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Inoue.” 

Orihime looked… star struck. Renji could understand the feeling. Byakuya was damn pretty, and the unbound hair and suit put him over the top. She’d probably have fainted dead away if she could have seen Byakuya the way Renji first had—with that incredible spiritual pressure layered on top of his intense good looks. Still, she must have sensed it a little, because she dropped into a curtsy. 

Orihime had chosen to wear a very traditional kimono. It was greens and whites, patterned with plum blossoms. A wide bright yellow obi wrapped her waist and matching ribbons dangled from her hair. She looked cute as a button, honestly.

Introductions over, Renji glanced over to see Rukia giving him the oddest look, almost like she didn’t know him. “What?” he asked her.

“Your hair is down,” was all she said. She made it sound like a natural disaster or something.

Byakuya had taken Orihime by the arm and was directing them into the hotel. Renji offered his to Rukia and they followed a couple steps behind. Renji gave Rukia another curious look. She was still gawping at him. “What are you looking at me like that for?” He tugged at his hair in embarrassment, “Your brother likes it like this, so you know...”

“Um,” she blinked, and then blushed. “I can see why. How come you never…? Your hair is so… I mean, Renji, you look good!”

“What, like I don’t usually? Nice, Rukia. Remind me why you’re my best friend?”

She rolled her eyes at him, and smacked his arm. “I’m trying to give you a compliment, you moron.”

“Oh.” It finally hit Renji. Rukia was being all weird because she thought he looked hot, too—like, for real. “Heh, well, in that case, I should say you look… I mean, wow. That dress. You….” He nodded at her in gobsmacked appreciation for a moment, and then said, “I mean, we grew up alright, didn’t we?”

She smiled warmly at that. “Yeah, I guess we have.”

The lobby of the Imperial Hotel looked like some kind of grand ballroom. There were pillars of granite, glittering chandeliers, and polished floors that made their heels click as they trailed behind Byakuya. Renji expected they might have to wait around while Byakuya checked-in, but, the staff seemed to recognize him as a VIP and, after a quick conversation with the concierge, they were being swept into one of the hotel’s restaurants. There were white table cloths, Western-style chairs, crystal, too much silverware, and a menu in a language Renji didn’t recognize. He leaned his shoulder into Byakuya and pointed to the strange script, “Um…?”

“French,” Byakuya explained. 

Orihime seemed to be completely hunched over trying to read hers; her intense expression of concentration was adorable. “Croissant!” she announced happily. “I know this one!”

Byakuya raised an eyebrow and seemed to give Rukia a glare that implied ‘take care of your friend,’ but said politely, “I’m happy to order for everyone.”

Jeez, how many languages did Byakuya speak? Renji shrugged to himself. He guessed the idle part of idle rich was having all that time to study languages. “Works for me,” Renji set his menu down. “I’m sure it’s all good.”

“I was told this was their best,” Byakuya explained. “They do have more traditional places, but I thought this might be a fun treat for Ms. Inoue.”

“Oh,” she smiled prettily. “I love it. I love food. You’re so kind and generous!” Turning to Rukia, Orihime chattered on, “Your brother is really nice, isn’t he?”

Rukia smiled patiently and gave Byakuya that adoring look she sometimes did. “I think so.”

Renji tried not to roll his eyes or grunt too obviously, but a change in subject was needed ASAP. He grasped around for a second, and settled on something simple, “How’s Nanako working out? Not giving you too much lip, is she, Taicho?”

A waiter arrived and silently deposited glasses of water at their elbows. “No,” Byakuya said simply, not even bothering to give Renji a glance. Renji wondered what was going on with the dismissive attitude, but then Byakuya took a sip, and explained to the others, “Renji has left me to deal with the tedium of Division business on my own.”

Ah. Tedium. Okay. No work-talk in front of the ladies. Great, what the hell were they going to do for the next three hours, discuss the weather?

Rukia tried next. “What brings you to the World of the Living, nii-sama?”

Renji tried not to wince or make obvious ‘no!’ throat-slashing motions at her. But, once again, Byakuya floored Renji by showing off a small smile and saying, “Since there’s a break in the fighting, it seemed like a good time to make a date to see Renji.”

A date. Byakuya just said ‘date’ out loud…in front of people… with Renji’s name attached.

Orihime glanced between Renji and Byakuya for several seconds as she seemed to puzzle things out. Her eyes went very wide and her cheeks turned bright pink. “Oh,” she said, and then “All the pretty hair.” As if surprised at the words that came out of her mouth her hands flew up to cover it and she giggled. Seemingly despite herself another word snuck out between her fingers, “Hot.”

Byakuya’s smile curled up a bit more, and Renji swore he murmured, “Indeed.”

Thank fate the waiter arrived at that moment, so Renji could use the time Byakuya rattled off things in what appeared to be flawless French to pull himself together. He was sure he was alternating between blushing bright red and grinning like a lovestruck idiot. Every time he thought it might be safe to look up from his lap he’d catch either Rukia or Orihime’s eye and he’d have to look away again.

Orihime must have felt beholden to take a stab at conversation having effectively killed it with her last comments, so once the waiter had left, she said, “I’m really looking forward to visiting the Seireitei again. I mean, like, legally, this time, and without all the misunderstandings and having to rescue… er, I mean, we didn’t get to talk much before,” she said looking at Byakuya and Renji in turn. “I bet you’re both much nicer when you’re not trying to kill Kurosaki-kun. Maybe we could do lunch again!” Now she looked to Renji, “I loved those food stalls you took us to! And…oh, um, you seem to like food, Mr. Kuchiki!”

Renji had to resist dropping his head to the table in defeat and pounding it over and over again.


End file.
